


Alright, Fine

by Karashi



Category: Ben 10 Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 20:46:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10557458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karashi/pseuds/Karashi
Summary: Myaxx hates combat training. Absolutely hates it.





	

_Myaxx hates combat training. Absolutely hates it._  
  
It's not that she has an aversion to fighting, alright she does _but she believes that discretion is the better part of valor. It's not that she's no good at it because there was that time she faced down the mechanical hoard of a certain conquering warlord from her home planet and survived. It's not that she thinks there isn’t merit to knowing how to deal with a berserking alien capable of crumpling a reinforced steel door like paper._  
  
In the cover of a fallen pillar, the chimera sui generis barely hears Gluto’s wet squelching words over the din of laser-fire. She strains to listen and fails, using instead the navigator’s frantically waving tentacles as a strong suggestion to get the fuck out of there. She goes with her gut, leaps out into the open, and straight into a dead run.  
  
She returns with a volley of blaster shots and Gluto gives his own support of suppressing fire. Their shots scatter the hovering laser-drones long enough to ensure that Myaxx isn’t riddled with holes by the time she reaches Gluto. The drones' attacks stop and she finally hears the navigator shout out “Explosives!”  
  
She barely manages to dive into the makeshift bunker before the firebomb goes off and singes the soles of her boots. She knows she’s lucky she made it in time, but it doesn’t stop the angry expletives pouring out of her mouth as she clutches at her feet.  
  
“Of all the fucking ways to break in my new boots,” she growls.  
  
“He means well,” Gluto says automatically as he hands her a fresh ammunition cartridge, but even the navigator sounds like his patience is running out.  
  
She snorts, “Just like the way to hell is built on good intentions?”  
  
Gluto only shrugs.  
  
The chimera takes the proffered cartridge with a genuine thank you (because she of all people understands the value of showing appreciation) before reloading her blaster. She risks a scan of their situation, eyes widening as she looks over her shoulder and yells, “Incoming!”  
  
Gluto abandons his mechanical legs and latches onto her back. She scrambles out of the bunker as fast as she can, desperately searching for any possible cover. She’s too late. An explosion from behind knocks her off balance and it takes her a moment to realize the eclipsing shadow.  
  
She glances up, sees Gluto stretched out and the numerous, gaping holes in his body. He rapidly shrinks back to normal, patching himself up in the process. She feels something sticky on her arms and legs, thinks it’s just residue from Gluto, and makes the mistake of looking.  
  
“Aw, fuck,” she hisses at the chunks of shrapnel embedded in her body and the blood oozing from her wounds. Once visual confirmation is established, the pain receptors kick in, and moving becomes difficult.  
  
“Should I terminate simulation?” Gluto asks.  
  
“Fuck no!” the venom in her voice could have melted steel. “The last thing I want is to do this shit all over again!”  
  
_Now that she thinks about it, it’s more that Myaxx hates combat training with Tetrax._  
  
She hates how he always runs these drills and scenarios longer than she's willing to participate. She hates how he always schedules it just when she makes any headway in her current research. And she hates how he keeps treating her performance like she failed even when the simulator says otherwise.  
  
She’s not sure how long it takes before they finally finish the damn simulation and have the medic-droids treat their injuries. It feels like years.  
  
“Two hours,” Tetrax declares in clipped, unimpressed tones while staring at the numbers and figures on the screen his portable console projected. “Unacceptable time.”  
  
“Un-unacceptable!?” Myaxx seethes as she rises to her feet, knocking a droid or two away. “Two hours is my _best time_ on the record!”  
  
“For a straightforward Get-to-the-EZ simulation, two hours is _dismal_ and it would mean you or the rescue team waiting for you at the rendezvous point would be dead. All I would need is one hour, at the most.”  
  
“Oh well bravo, Mister Mercenary Extraordinaire. What do you want? A fucking medal?” she sneers at the petrosapien.  
  
“I want you to take these things seriously.” It’s bad enough that he looks and sounds so calm about it, but he’s not meeting her gaze and it pushes her over the edge.  
  
She straightens to her full height, “And what makes you think I’m _not_ taking these things seriously?”  
  
“You get injured fifteen percent of the time during your solo sessions. And even with assistance-”  
  
“Are you seriously ignoring how you accidentally-on-purpose increase the danger level _halfway my run through those?!_ ”  
  
“I’m only making things realistic. Real life doesn’t follow any sort of plans and ambushes hap-”  
  
“Oh just admit that you _want_ me to mess up so you can prove just how superior you are,” she snaps.  
  
“What? That’s not what I’m trying to do!”  
  
“It sure looks that way.”  
  
“No! That’s not-”  
  
“Then why do you give me so much shit for it? I’ve been handling myself just fine all these years and-”  
  
“What about Incarcecon?”  
  
“That was _one time_ , you asshole! And if you remember I was in one piece throughout my stay in that slime pit!”  
  
“You can still benefit from combat training,” he grouses, still not looking at her. She’s too angry notice the projected screen flickered once or the hairline cracks on the console where Tetrax’s hand is clenching it.  
  
“In case you haven’t realized but I’m _not_ a bounty hunter. I’m _not_ as good as you at this sort of thing!”  
  
“I KNOW THAT!” he suddenly roars, raising his head to briefly meet her gaze. He fixes his attention back to the console, then murmurs, nearly inaudible, “Don’t you think I don’t know that?”  
  
“And that is a problem _why_?” she demands, folding her arms across her chest and cursing the air blue when lancing pain reminds her of her injuries.  
  
He stares at her pointedly as she stretches out her arms so the medic-droids could resume their task.  
  
She stares back at him, “Well?”  
  
When he looks askance, it takes all of Myaxx’s self-control not to hurl the nearest medic-droid at him. A good thing, too, because he finally begins his explanation, “Ever since we’ve become... _involved_ with each other, I worry about you. More than usual.”  
  
Tetrax pauses to watch her expectantly. She quirks the chimera sui generis equivalent of a brow and waits for him to continue. He’s visibly struggling to put his thoughts into words but her silence seems to be a relief for him, possibly an encouragement.  
  
“I look at your performance on these simulations and I can’t help but think you’ll get badly hurt during the real thing. I know you’re stronger than most aliens and that you’re more capable than people think. I still can’t help it!” he finishes defensively.  
  
She says nothing for a few moments, unsure if she should feel flattered or annoyed. She goes for both though it’s more of the latter when she remarks “Aren’t you sweet.” She can sense his hackles rising and adds, “I appreciate your concern though. Thank you,” without any hint of sarcasm.  
  
“So we’re good?” he sounds hopeful and eager to put this all behind them.  
  
“You should be so lucky,” Gluto snorts louder than he intends.  
  
Myaxx fixes her gaze at the blobby alien and looks almost thoughtful while Tetrax levels a glare at his navigator.  
  
“He has a point,” Myaxx agrees and turns to the petrosapien, “You could have said something, instead of riding my ass about it. And not in the fun way,” she smirks.  
  
“I didn’t need to know that!” Gluto groans, tentacles flailing in dismay.  
  
Tetrax stiffens. For an alien with diamond-hard skin it’s almost imperceptible but Myaxx and Gluto can see the signs. His grimace deepens a fraction, his chin raises a hair’s breadth in indignation, and his shoulders square back _just so_. The tension in his mien suggests he’s gearing up for another fight but instead he mumbles something inaudible beneath his breath.  
  
Both Myaxx and Gluto lean forward, “What?”  
  
His features scrunch in discomfort, possibly embarrassment, “I _said_ I didn’t... want to sound like Azmuth.”  
  
Myaxx has no idea how he could have ever come to that conclusion but it’s Gluto who repeats, “What?”  
  
“I know you heard me the second time,” Tetrax grates.  
  
Gluto, filled with far too much morbid curiosity to be deterred by his captain’s menacing glower, pursues the line of inquiry, “How does Azmuth figure into the equation?” He does so partly for Myaxx’s benefit but mostly for his.  
  
“You’re not jealous of him, are you?” the chimera doesn’t bother to hide the disgust in her voice or suppress her shudder at the thought.  
  
“No!” the petrosapien barks.  
  
“Don’t change the subject!” Gluto orders over the whip-crack of his tentacle lashing at air.  
  
Myaxx still doesn’t bother to suppress a smirk at the navigator’s impatience or the captain’s hapless resignation.  
  
After the deep rumble of Tetrax’s sigh, he elaborates, “Azmuth doesn’t give you enough credit and I know you’re... sensitive about that.”  
  
“That’s an understatement,” Gluto rolls all three of his eyes. They all know it’s too late them to pretend the gelatinous alien isn’t involved in the conversation.  
  
At that, the chimera visibly shifts her weight. It’s not out of discomfort. She acknowledges the truth behind their words and owns up to it. Her pride in her work caused her to temporarily leave Azmuth’s employ. Then there was the time she claimed work that was not _entirely_ her own. Not to mention her unconscious need to prove her worth...  
  
Alright so it _was_ out of discomfort. While the rest of the universe was completely unaware of her attempted retribution on her boss, the aliens before her were completely aware of what she’s done and what she’s like.  
  
“Yeah, I don’t like my hard work going unrecognized. What of it?” she asks, her turn to be on the defensive.  
  
“I thought if I told you I worried about your safety or how I can’t always have your back on field missions I would sound like Azmuth.” At the five eyes staring at him, Tetrax goes on to mutter, “Obviously that didn’t work.”  
  
A long arm drapes over Tetrax’s broad shoulders. “You acknowledge the things I do and the decisions I make as mine. That alone means you sound nothing like the old grump,” Myaxx’s voice is softer now and her smile has nothing to do with the medic-droids finishing their work.  
  
“But you did come pretty close,” Gluto admonishes, recognizing the shift in the atmosphere and hoping to derail it while he’s still in the petrosapien and chimera’s presence.  
  
It doesn’t work.  
  
He can feel himself being edged out of the conversation, and for once he doesn’t take offense. He knows where this is leading and he wants no part of it. Already he starts to slink away, the medic-droids having long finished patching him up.  
  
“This doesn’t mean I’ll go any easier on you during combat training,” Tetrax warns and makes no motion to shrug the chimera off him. “But unless your results really call for it I won’t...” he trails off, looking embarrassed but not exactly _unhappy_ , “Ride your ass about it as much.”  
  
Her leer is audible as she asks, “And what sort of results do I have to make to get the fun kind?”  
  
Before Tetrax can answer, Gluto runs out with tentacles flailing, declaring, “I don’t need to know that either!”  
  
_Overall, Myaxx supposes she doesn’t hate combat training with Tetrax._  
  
Alright she still does but not absolutely.


End file.
